


Flick the Red Switch Not the Blue

by keelover



Category: Avengers (Comic), Captain America (Comics), Iron Man (Comic)
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Earth-616, F/M, Laundry, M/M, PWP, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an encounter goes astray, Tony hopes to find Steve at his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flick the Red Switch Not the Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintillulae](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=scintillulae).



The dryer Tony stared down at was an immobile, inanimate object that _mocked_ him. Tony's arms ached, and his neck was sore; using the washer had not been a pleasant experience. The casualties included his shirt, torn from where he had endeavored to force the material out, and three of Steve's socks. Tony was fed up, and about two seconds away from calling Jarvis, but that was selfish and petty, and he  knew it was selfish and petty. The worst part was over, he figured as he closed the lid, turning the knob setting with more force than necessary. The pain in his neck returned, causing him to rub at the strained turn of muscle, cursing under his breath as he kicked the dreaded machine once, and then again for good measure.

 

“Tony, why are you standing in my laundry room naked?” Steve asked. Tony didn't jump, but he had forgotten about him. Never mind it being Steve's apartment.

 

“Oh, hey, Steve. You know my face, right?” he asked.

 

Steve's brow lifted, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said.

 

“Well, this extremely lovely, debonaire—some might say—face of mine got me into a bit of trouble when I decided to drop by unannounced.”

 

“Why are you here, exactly?”

 

“I'll get to that part. I was walking, and wouldn't you know it, someone calls out my name.”

 

“Let me guess, an attractive woman?”

 

“Yes, Steve, a very attractive woman. A very attractive woman I didn't have any recollection of.”

 

“What did she spill on you?”

 

“This is, believe it or not, a first,” Tony said, hands on his hips as though they were carrying on a casual conversation. “An icy. An icy, Steve. A red one, tasted like cherry, but I could be wrong.”

 

Steve grinned, unsympathetic as he leaned against the door frame. “I'm sure you deserved it,” he said.

 

Tony frowned. “More than likely,” he said with a shrug.

 

“So you decided to break into my apartment, and attempt to do laundry?”

 

“Attempt being the key word here. I tore my shirt, and hurt myself in the process.”

 

“It's really not that hard, Tony.”

 

“I disagree.”

 

“Sometimes I forget you grew up a rich kid,” Steve said, charming look to his face as he insulted the other man. “Oh, wait. No. I remember.”

 

“I could be seriously injured, and this is how you treat me? I should just take your clothes, and leave.”

 

“What did bring you here?” Steve asked, head cocked to the side. Tony forgot sometimes how used Steve must be to his overreactions that he ignored them now.

 

“It's not important.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Me missing your company is not important. And apologizing about, you know, isn't important either.”

 

“You blowing up at Carol, and trying to punch me?”

 

“You threatened to break my nose with your face.”

 

“I promise you that was not a threat, Tony. If it makes any difference, I'm sorry, too. There's a lot of things I've been keeping you in the dark about.”

 

“Well, good. I can leave now.”

 

“Naked?” Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

 

“All right, so maybe I can't leave right this instant, but you get the gist.”

 

“You're still standing in my laundry room with no clothes on.”

 

“Well, it's not like you've never seen me naked before. We get abducted, it happens.”

 

“I've seen much more than that,” Steve said, unabashed about their past together. Tony figured he would be more discrete, or flat out deny that part of their history.

 

“Yes, you have,” Tony said, mauling the thought over. “We never got the chance to sort of do this. Be domestic, I mean. You cook, I clean. I mean, in that way.”

 

“There wasn't time,” Steve said.

 

“We burnt out real fast there, didn't we?”

 

“We did,” Steve said, a sour turn to his lips.

 

“Well, I'm doing laundry, what are you doing?” Tony asked, a defiant lift to his chin.

 

“We can't do this, Tony,” Steve said even as he moved toward him. Tony wasn't adept to resisting temptation, and he did miss Steve. Tony missed him in a way he knew he shouldn't, a way he thought was behind him; a way in which he thought Steve would never desire again.

 

“We can't, I know,” Tony said even as Steve pressed him backward, knee sliding in between his legs. The fact that Steve was still clothed nagged at him, a simple power play that meant nothing to most people, but not to Tony. “That's a very nice shirt, matches your eyes,” he said, words a murmur against the side of Steve's neck as he worked the material up and over the other mans shoulders.

 

The surface of the dryer was warm, nice as Steve lifted Tony up, wasting no time as he kissed him, fingers lacing behind his neck. Tony's body reacted with little resistance, memories of touching and being touched resurfacing. The fact that Steve was the only man to touch him like this, kiss him like this was not lost on Tony. A warm body was not hard to find; a woman to ease a lonely night, but no one was Steve; a man he thought he would never see again let alone touch.

 

“I missed you,” he said before he could stop himself, knees on either side of Steve's hips, the rumbling sensation of the dryer sending jolts through his spine.

 

Steve heaved a sigh,their foreheads touching as silence spread across them. Steve's hand stilled at the edge of his jaw, thumb stroking over his cheek. “Do you know how many times I've seen my mother on her death bed? How many times I watched as Dr. Erskine was assassinated, knowing I couldn't do anything to stop it?” he asked, pausing long enough to press a kiss to Tony's bottom lip. “The worst were the mornings we spent together, or the evenings after a mission on the quinjet when we'd joke, or touch or say something we would never say otherwise. The hardest part was visiting the moments we fought, the moments I'd hit you, or you'd grab me. The worst part was not being able to say stop, or ask for help. Anything.”

 

“You're the only person whose approval has ever meant anything to me,” Tony said because anything else would be too difficult; too real, and that was unacceptable. In its own right, it was both an apology and a confession. “I wasn't doing well without you, at all. I fell apart.”

 

“Time heals all, you believe that?”

 

“Not even a little.”

 

“Good,” Steve said, kissing Tony as he undid the button to his slacks. The fourth time Steve kissed him, Tony urged him on, hands sliding under the elastic of his briefs to grab hold of Steve's ass, smirking as the other man pressed forward.

 

A jolt came as the dryer shifted, something knocked off course. “That's different,” Tony said, taken aback as a thrill coursed to the pit of his stomach. Steve laughed, a grin across his face as his hands slid over Tony's thighs, eyes tinged with lust and a specific brand of love. “I sort of want it to do it again, unless it's malfunctioning, then I want off,” he said, mouth going slack as Steve's hand moved along the length of his cock.

 

“Does that mouth ever stop working?”

 

“Only when it's occupied,” Tony said, pleased as Steve pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, tongue trailing along his, willing him to give in or put up a fight. Too much time had past, there was no desire to wage war on Tony's part, and so he willed Steve to take over, take control; take what it was he wanted. Steve bit at the lining of his jaw, hand driving Tony onward as the dryer heated up and then cooled down, leaving his bare skin sensitive and yearning for more.

 

“Almost forgot,” Steve said, leaving Tony high and dry as he walked off. Tony shook his head, a laugh on the tip of his tongue as Steve fell back in between his thighs, necessities in tow. “You're really warm, sure you're okay up there?” he asked, face full of concern that Tony licked away.

 

“More than okay, Cap,” he said, jumping down as he turned over. Steve's hands felt cool against his skin, exploring his body like they once had. Tony's arms straightened, trembling as the dryer continued its sequence.

 

“You're shaking,” Steve said, whispering as his lips brushed against Tony's ear. “I'd like to pretend it's because of me.”

 

The shudder that encased Tony then was Steve's doing, and nothing else. “Mission accomplished,” he said, head tilted to the side as Steve grazed a soft kiss along his mouth, hand slipping further down Tony's skin, knuckles trailing along his spine.

 

The first slick finger that slid into him brought about a series of memories Tony had worked relentlessly to suppress. A series of late nights, early mornings, and dire situations that ripped him apart, and stitched him back together again. A sensation that sent his hips forward, head down, and mouth open. Steve was breathing harshly, Tony could hear him, knew it had everything to do with the sounds he was making. The second finger that joined the first stretched him, pushed his boundaries, and set aside everything that was falling apart in his life.

 

The groan that slipped passed his lips urged Steve to add another, a demand the other man followed without question. Steve's other hand gripped his right cheek, fingers digging in, marking Tony's flesh with fresh marks that would go unexplained. No one left marks like Steve did. Once upon a time, that notion bothered Tony, they were a reminder of what had transpired, but with time, his position on the matter had changed, and he developed what could only be described as a fascination with them. Whatever Steve left behind, Tony could stare or touch for hours.

 

The last marks Steve had left behind were two hand shaped bruises along the inside of Tony's arms from where he had shoved him back into a wall. That was a moment Tony would never forget, the pain and the desperation; the anger. Steve had been fighting for what he thought was right; for justice, and Tony had been fighting for the simple fact that he had been backed into a corner; scared. The bruises were an obscure purple, a reminder of what he had lost. The afternoon he awoke to see them gone was the afternoon he had given up.

 

“Please,” he said, not thinking. Steve's movements stilled, the mouth he had pressed against the nape of his neck moved from their position.

 

Steve leaned over, body molding against his.“What?” he asked. Tony's chest heaved, palms faced down on the dryer as it continued. A thin layer of perspiration had formed between his brow, chest heavy, body aching.

 

“I said please,” he said, a curt tone to his voice. Tony didn't like to repeat himself, and more than that, he didn't like to beg. The fact he said it twice was near grating, unnerving, but he needed this; needed him.

 

Steve understood, placing his hands on Tony's hips as he kissed along the curve of his neck. The pressure of Steve's fingers digging in as he paced himself stole Tony's breath away. The amount of control Steve moved with was one Tony could only ever dream of, the breach of his body brought an undercurrent of pain that morphed and shifted into a stream of pleasure. A considerable amount of time had past since Tony had partook in sex of this nature, and a sense of vulnerability came close to overwhelming him until Steve interlocked their fingers together. “I've got you,” he said, muttering as he slid his fingers through Tony's hair, tangling the tresses as he pressed forward, filling Tony just enough before reeling back.

 

The sounds that fell from his mouth were inhuman, the feel of Steve inside him, both driving him forward and holding him back was a riveting sort of torture. Tony rested on his elbows, arms giving out as the dryer's cycle came to an end. Tony still shook, still trembled as Steve took him, but it had everything to do with the way he felt, the way in which he was being used. Steve gripped both of Tony's cheeks, spreading them further apart as he fucked him harder, filled him like no one else had. Steve needed leading most of the time when it came to being rough, he didn't like the idea of hurting the people he cared for, but he wasn't holding back, and Tony was thankful as he felt all that the other man had to offer.

 

“Up,” Steve said, commanding Tony as he tugged at his hair, other hand reaching in between his thighs. Tony did as told, eyes slipping shut as Steve nipped and kissed at his throat. Steve pulled out, causing Tony to curse under his breath as Steve turned him around. Steve kissed Tony with much more passion as he hoisted the other up and onto the dryer, pressing start. “I want you to look at me while we do this,” he said, lids heavy and blue eyes tranquil.

 

Tony's breathing became labored, lips parted as Steve stood straight, placing one of Tony's legs up and over his shoulder. The second time Steve entered him, Tony brought him closer, his other leg hooked around the mid of Steve's waist, their mouths fastened together. One arm wrapped around Steve's neck; his hand wrapping around the same hand Steve used to work Tony over with. Tony's head slumped forward onto Steve's shoulder as his pace picked up, every thrust deliberate, every toss of his hips determined to finish Tony off. The dryer raised in temperature once again, the heat engulfing his every sense.

 

The next fifteen minutes were spent in silence, the only noise that of heavy panting, and pleasure filled grunts. Tony couldn't catch his breath, didn't want to as he slid forward, legs wrapped around Steve's waist as the other man lifted him, pressing him up against the wall as he nipped and sucked at every expanse of skin he could find. The mans stamina was world renowned, but only a handful of people knew to what extent that played into during sex, and Tony was among them. There was no sense in trying to outlast him, it wasn't possible. Steve thrust upward, Tony's back slamming back against the wall, stomach tensing as he came in between them.

 

Tony's feet barely touched the ground before he was flipped over, cheek held flat against the wall. “What happened to wanting to see me?” he asked, lip tugged in between his teeth as Steve slid back inside of him.

 

“I got to see you,” Steve said, fingers bruising Tony's hips as he rocked forward. Tony let out a shaky breath, moan fumbling its way out as every thrust, every push, every slap of skin made it clear how sensitive his body was.

 

“Hardly fair,” he said, choking on the last word. “I can't.”

 

“You can,” Steve said, breath hot against his ear as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. Steve's hand slid down Tony's chest, resting in between his thighs as he teased at the already tender area.

 

“Oh, you can go to hell,”Tony said, teeth gritting together as Steve slid a thumb across one of his nipples, knowing full well what that did to him.

 

“With what we're doing, I think it's a safe bet I'm already heading there,” Steve said, a brush of humor to his voice that was cut short as he came to a standstill, body trembling.

 

“That was fun,” Tony said, back against the wall as he sat on the floor, attempting to catch his breath. “We should do it again sometime.”

 

“You mean when I don't have someone I'm seeing?” Steve asked, regret surfacing.

 

Tony stood to his feet, moving towards the dryer. “I mean whenever we feel like doing this again,” he said, pulling out his pants and putting them on. “I like Sharron,” he added, waving his hand in the air as though he were trying to pull a thought from thin air. “I just like you more.”

 

“I'm trying to piece my life back together, Tony.”

 

“And mine's going down in flames, Steve. It's how it works for me,” Tony said, frustration mounting as clarity made its rounds. A headache was mounting, he could feel it.

 

“If you would just let me help you Steve said, Tony's chin in his hand as their eyes met. The sincerity had always bothered Tony. “Or just let me know what's happening. Don't keep me in the dark.”

 

“Then don't keep me out of your bed,” Tony said, setting an impossible compromise he knew the other would never take.

 

“Fine,” Steve said, nothing more and nothing less.

 

“Fine? That's not fine, Steve. That's far from fine, in fact.”

 

“You think I can't do this, keep secrets like this, and you're right. I would have to make a sacrifice, Tony, and I've just told you which one I've made,” he said, face never wavering. “Don't make me regret it.”

 

Tony accepted the kiss Steve had to offer before opening the lid to the dryer. “I won't,” he said as he pulled on one of Steve's shirts. It was the last thing he said before he left. What it meant, Tony didn't know, but he hoped it meant something good would come through all of the bad he was experiencing.

 

 

A phone call later, and Tony apologized for the two pairs of socks and three tee shirts Steve found stained with bleach.

 

 

 

 


End file.
